First Command
by Elessar1201
Summary: After the events of the Galileo 7, Kirk has to figure out just what went on on Taurus II, and why his First Officer is so troubled by it.


**First Command**

(Begins after Episode 16, "The Galileo 7")

"You're a stubborn man, Mr. Spock."

The first officer considered that for a moment. "Yes, sir."

Kirk laughed softly to himself. Spock was never going to admit he'd been inspired or that he'd been desperate enough to try anything.

"I'm going down to look over the other landing parties' data," Kirk said, making the briefest eye contact with Bones. "I need your reports on Murasaki 312 within twenty-four hours, Mr. Spock," he turned slightly, "Dr. McCoy. Mr. Spock, please advise Mr. Scott that I need his report as well, as well as his evaluation of the Galileo's performance."

"Aye, Captain." Spock stood and clasped his hand behind his back in parade rest.

"You have the bridge, Mr. Spock."

Spock nodded curtly and moved toward the captain's chair. Uhura spun back toward the console, and Kirk strode off the bridge, followed closely by the ship's doctor. The door whooshed shut and the turbolift began to move, but Kirk didn't speak. He slid his eyes over long enough to see the well-I'll-be-damned smirk on McCoy's face, but he waited until the turbolift had stopped and the two men were enclosed in the privacy of the doctor's interior office.

Bones poured two glasses of Saurian brandy and passed one over to Jim. Jim sipped; there was nothing like the first taste of Saurian brandy, but he was on duty, after all. McCoy waited patiently, swirling his own brandy in the sifter.

"Mr. Spock…" Kirk hesitated. He knew Spock like he knew his own brother—better in some ways—but sometimes it wasn't easy to put that knowledge into words. He had to rely on instinct and feel his way through this.

He sighed, sipped his brandy again. "Mr. Spock seems troubled."

McCoy nodded. "Yes, I wouldn't be surprised."

"What went on down there, Bones?"

The doctor sat in his chair and leaned back wearily. "I was teasing him about being in command of the vessel," he began, "when we first made the emergency landing. And he said, 'I neither enjoy command nor fear it.' And, hell, Jim, I know that. I've seen him in action enough, haven't I?"

"Yes," Jim murmured, leaning a hip against the corner of the desk. "And as far as I know, none of us has any qualms with him assuming command if something happens to me, do we?"

"Not me," Bones agreed. "And none of the officers, as far as I know. Scotty thinks the man's practically an engineer—and coming from Scotty, that's about as high praise as you can get. The two of them saved our lives down there by rigging up that engine—but especially Spock."

"Why especially Spock?"

"Well, you know about him dumping the fuel there at the end," McCoy said. "That was genius, of course. But he was also the first one to hand over his phaser, before he asked anyone else to do it—well, before he asked anyone who had to leave the ship. And when Gaetano went missing, Spock went after him, unarmed, and brought him back even while those creatures were attacking. He could have been killed, and it wasn't his fault that Gaetano died anyway."

Jim shook his head and smiled grimly. "It's always the captain's fault, Bones."

"But it got to him, Jim—that one mistake. I mean, anyone could have—"

"What mistake?"

Now they were getting to it. Bones's rendition of the events was disjointed, emotional, but Kirk could fill in the details later. He trusted the older man to get to the heart of the events and the crewmen involved in them.

McCoy rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Once we knew about the creatures, then men wanted to launch an attack, kill the beasts, or drive them back. After all, they'd already killed one of ours—"

"Latimer?"

"Right. But Spock didn't want to hurt them if he didn't have to. And of course, being Spock, he has to make a comment about how he doesn't know why humans have so little respect for life and are always so ready to kill things—"

"Yes, I've heard that one," Jim said, smiling ruefully. "Go on."

"Spock's thinking was that if they shot the phasers just to demonstrate their power—to frighten, rather than to kill—it would drive the creatures back long enough to give him and Scotty time to get the shuttle in orbit."

"Sounds…er, logical."

"Sure," McCoy said, raising his glass in a toast. "But so did killing them before they could kill us. And to men who'd just had a crewmate killed, killing them sounded better. Hell, it sounded better to me, too. I wouldn't have been above taking a little vengeance on the hairy beasts, and I'm usually with Spock on the whole killing thing."

Jim frowned. "Are you saying there were discipline problems on the mission?" It was hard to imagine; Spock was usually so implacable that there was no point arguing with him—not that one of Kirk's crew would think of arguing with a superior officer.

"Yes, there were," McCoy said, "but I thought you wanted to hear about Spock. Are we changing the subject?"

"No." Jim chuckled. "Please continue." But he filed the information away; insubordination would not stand on his ship, or any extension of it.

"So, the big mistake he made," Bones continued, "was choosing to fire to frighten, and not taking into account that instead of frightening the creatures, it might just make them angry and actually provoke an attack. He left Gaetano to stand guard, because he was quite sure the creatures would take a while to regroup before making themselves known again."

McCoy met Jim's eyes. "There's no doubt that that command cost Gaetano's life."

Jim nodded. He knew that burden well, and it was heavy. That could certainly account for Spock's disquiet. All of his crew had seen death, but it was different when you were the one responsible for it.

"Every command decision could cost someone's life, Bones. Killing one of those creatures might have made them rush you in greater numbers and you all could have been killed. It could have gone a lot of ways."

"Yes, thank you, Jim," McCoy said, raising a Spock-like eyebrow. "I had no idea what it was like to hold someone's life in your hand, me being just an old country doctor."

Kirk grinned briefly. "My apologies, doctor. Obviously you understand my point."

McCoy raised his eyes as if pleading for help from above, but when none came he simply took another drink of his brandy.

"So, what did you mean, it got to him?" Spock wasn't as unemotional as he liked to pretend, but even Kirk had rarely seen anything "get to" him.

McCoy downed the rest of his brandy and poured another. He held up the decanter, but Jim shook his head, and McCoy returned it to the desk drawer.

"His precious logic failed him," the doctor said. "He reasoned out everything there was to know about primitive creatures, made a logical, sensible decision, and he was wrong—and a man died because of it. He had a hard time handling that." He smirked. "And he seemed personally offended that the creatures didn't act as logically as he expected them to."

The doctor fell silent. Jim stared down into the last inch of his brandy, letting the doctor's words percolate. _A hard time—Spock? When has Spock had a hard time with anything?_

"There's more to it than that," Kirk finally said. Dr. McCoy raised his eyebrows. "Spock is no stranger to authority or to violence—and he's seen me make plenty of choices that cost me lives. He knows the price of command. So what else?"

"Jim, there's not a choice he made down there that anyone else wouldn't have made. I realize that now, but you couldn't have convinced me of it a few hours ago, down on that planet." McCoy leaned forward in his chair. "I gave him as much grief as Boma did, maybe more. But if you just look at his actions on the surface, he did everything right. He put everyone else above himself, he showed extraordinary bravery, he made hard choices and took calculated risks, and above all, he got us back to the Enterprise safely."

Praise like that was rare from the cynical doctor, and Jim made a note of it. "So what's the problem, Bones?"

The doctor stood from his chair and clasped his hands behind his back. The office was only big enough for him to pace a few steps in each direction, but he covered several lengths before he spoke again.

"I'm no commander, Jim, and I'm certainly no psychiatrist."

"Noted."

"As I see it," the doctor said slowly, "Spock has two problems, but they're really two sides of the same coin. He rejects his human, emotional side…but he still feels things, Jim, you know he does."

"Mmm."

"But sometimes, that's exactly what people need to see! Not that his emotions are controlling him, but that he cares! For example," he leaned against the desk next to Jim, "when Boma and Gaetano wanted to bury Latimer, Spock and Scotty were in the middle of a major repair, and Spock said no. It was the right choice, because we were under huge time pressure and he was trying to save our lives, but in the end, all the men really wanted was to know that someone cared about their friend, or understood their need to give him a proper burial."

"Someone else could have read services over Latimer, Bones," Kirk said, imagining Spock and Scotty up to their elbows in wires and phaser parts. "That duty could have been delegated to any officer. You could have done it, or even Boma."

"I know that. He did ask me to do it, but I told him that it was his place as the captain, not mine. Everyone was waiting for him to express some regret or _something_, and he wasn't doing it." He looked up at Kirk. "See what I mean, Jim? The crew needs to see that their captain cares."

Kirk nodded. "I see what you mean. But the crew also needs to obey their commander, and if he says no burial right now, or he delegates someone else to do it, then they have to accept it."

"Yes, he had some trouble with compliance by Gaetano and Boma," McCoy said. "And, well…I wasn't as supportive as I could have been, either."

"I'm beginning to see that, Bones." Kirk didn't say it, but the question hung in the air. _Why not?_

"In fact, I…directly disobeyed one order."

Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"The creatures attacked while we were burying Gaetano, and Spock got trapped under a boulder." The doctor dropped heavily back into his desk chair. "Spock ordered us to leave him behind and get into the shuttle, but much as the man drives me insane, I couldn't do it. He wasn't pleased. Said it was—"

"Illogical," Kirk finished.

"Exactly." McCoy nodded grimly. "You know, back before Latimer was killed, Scotty realized that with the limited power he could restore to the shuttle, we'd have to jettison some weight."

Kirk did the calculations in his head. "About five hundred pounds?"

"Yeah."

"And there's not five hundred pounds worth of extra equipment on a shuttle."

"Right again," McCoy said. "So, Spock sees this before anyone else, of course, and goes right to 'about the weight of three grown men.'"

"And the junior officers were distressed by that?"

"Yes," the doctor said, "but the funny thing is, that was the part that didn't worry me at all. I mean, I knew I'd be one of those staying behind, but I never doubted for a second that Spock would put his own name first on the list. He's like you, Jim—he'd never do that to someone else—he'd always sacrifice himself first."

"The junior officers didn't trust that?"

"No…but then Spock didn't really bother to explain himself, as usual."

"He was the commanding officer," Kirk said, shaking his head. "He shouldn't have had to. Anything else, Bones?"

"Not really. I'll put the rest in my report."

Kirk nodded. "Good. I want two reports on this one, Bones. The normal medical report, of course, and I also want your deposition as a senior officer about disciplinary issues on the mission."

"I suppose that will have to include my own."

"I'll leave that up to you," Kirk said. "But I do expect a certain show of unity by the officers in front of the crew. You understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"I need those reports right away, but then go off duty until we reach Makus III."

"Aye, Captain."

Jim turned toward the doors, but the doctor's voice called him back. "Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I probably wouldn't mention this if I hadn't had two glasses of brandy—" McCoy dropped his eyes "—but I worry about him some. How long can a man go on denying half his nature before he tears himself apart?"

"That's a very good question, Bones."

The sickbay doors whooshed closed behind him as he left. He walked through the corridors of his ship, nodding in return to passing greetings, scanning every bit of the ship as he passed through. The doctor's words replayed in his mind as he walked. He would need to talk to Spock, but he knew his Vulcan friend, and he knew that he would need some time alone to process his experiences.

In any case, there was another conversation he needed to have first.

He stopped at the next computer alcove and hit a button. "Computer, I need the cabin number for Lieutenant Boma, science division."

The computer gave him the information and Kirk strode off through the complex series of elevators and corridors until he stood in the science quadrant outside the young officer's door.

He reviewed in his mind all he knew about the science officer. Good grades at the academy, specialization in astrophysics and planetary radiation—a good choice for the mission he'd been sent on. Green, yes—most of his experience was in labs. But Mr. Spock was the commander of the science division, and Boma had been under his direct command for some time.

_In labs,_ he reminded himself. _On board the ship. Not on dangerous missions or under attack._ He would try to remember that, but first things were first.

He knocked briskly. "Lieutenant Boma, this is the captain."

The door slid open. "Captain!" Boma said. He stepped back as if to let the captain enter, then seemed to remember himself and snapped to attention.

"At ease, Lieutenant. May I come in?"

"Aye, sir." He scurried out of the way as Jim entered.

Jim glanced briefly around the small cabin. There were two bunks, which meant that Boma had a roommate, probably on duty. There were few personal belongings, but pieces of equipment—lasers, sensors, a Geiger counter—lay in various stages of repair along most of the room's surfaces.

Boma stood at ease in the center of the room, glancing nervously at the captain. Kirk understood—he remembered well being a young officer and quaking in terror whenever Captain Garrovick singled him out. But that was a good thing, a captain's tool in disciplining and shaping young characters. Kirk let the silence grow between them.

"Sir, can I—"

Kirk glanced at him sharply. "I have not given you permission to speak, Lieutenant."

"No, sir. Excuse me, sir." Boma clenched his jaw and fixed his gaze rigidly over Kirk's shoulder.

Kirk resumed the silence as he pretended to look around the small cabin for several minutes longer. Boma's body became more and more rigid; Kirk was surprised that he didn't start shaking.

Finally the captain put an end to the younger man's misery. "Mr. Boma," he said, "do you consider the Galileo's mission a success?"

Boma's eyes flashed to Kirk's. "Well, uh, no sir."

"Why not?"

"Um…we only got a few readings, not the full environmental and geological work up we usually get." Boma shifted in his at-ease position.

"Yes?"

"Well, and we lost two men, sir."

"Ah, yes. Gaetano and Latimer."

"Yes, sir," Boma said. "And all Mr. Spock—"

"Careful, Lieutenant," Kirk barked. "Mr. Spock is your superior officer and was the commander of your mission."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Boma, just what was it about Mr. Spock's leadership that you disagreed with? You've worked under his command in the science division for nearly a year with no problems."

"Yes, sir."

"So then, what?" Kirk had intended to be more paternal in his correction of the young officer, but he'd run out of patience.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"We wanted to hold services over Latimer, but Mr. Spock decided that fixing the shuttle was more important and wouldn't do it. Gaetano and I got pretty upset, and then when Gaetano—"

"When you wanted to bury Gaetano," Kirk snapped, "Spock allowed it and it nearly cost him his life."

"Yes, but—"

"Go on."

"He's just so cold!" Boma burst out. "He's like a machine—men were dying and he didn't even care!"

"Lieutenant," Kirk said, not bothering to hold back the bite in his voice. "Mr. Spock is a highly decorated Star Fleet Commander who has seen and done things you can't imagine, and under the most dangerous conditions. I owe him my life and my ship a dozen times over, and now, it seems, so do you. Are you telling me that your judgment on this mission was more sound than his?"

"Well, no, sir, I—"

"Are you telling me that you spoke disrespectfully to your commanding officer because he didn't seem concerned about your _feelings_?"

"No! That's not what—"

"Nonsense, Mr. Boma. That's exactly what you were thinking when Lieutenant Commander Spock made choices that you disagreed with. You expressed your displeasure verbally, and in front of junior crew members."

Boma held his stiff at-ease position, but his shoulders and chest seemed to sag, as though someone had let the air out. "Aye, sir."

"I appreciate your efforts on behalf of the dead, Mr. Boma," Kirk said, stepping forward until he was inches from the younger officer's face. "But you can't sacrifice the living in order to honor the dead."

"Aye, sir."

"I expect my officers to present a united front when crew members are present. And I will not tolerate insubordination or defiance of a superior officer. And make no mistake, Lieutenant—" Jim stepped away from Boma "—Mr. Spock is your superior in every way."

"Aye, sir."

"Consider yourself confined to quarters until further disciplinary actions are put into effect." Kirk slapped the button that opened the sliding door. "You may report for duty, but all other activities, including meals, will take place in your cabin."

Boma's mouth dropped open, but he snapped it closed quickly. "Aye, sir."

If he hadn't been so angry, Kirk would have been amused by the shock on Boma's face. The door closed behind him as he turned on his heel and headed back toward the bridge. The man was a scientist, like so many on the Enterprise, and probably had never expected to put his military training to use, much less be disciplined for it. But if he was going to serve on a starship, he'd better get used to doing double duty as a military officer as well as a physicist.

Kirk returned to the bridge. Without a word, Spock relinquished the command chair and returned to his seat at the science officer's console. It was no less than Kirk expected from his first officer, but he never failed to appreciate Spock's intuitive understanding of what he needed to do and where he needed to be in relation to Jim himself.

Jim smiled, knowing that Spock would object to the term "intuitive." He settled into his chair, looking out into space as it flashed by at speeds too high to truly focus on. The bridge was quiet, save for the electronic background music of sensors, computers and other equipment. Kirk absorbed the sounds, the view, the thrum of the life of his ship. At moments like this, he felt connected to the ship, as though the Enterprise and each of its crew members were bound together in a giant web of life, passion, and duty.

He rested in the feeling for a while, senses alert, but his mind working over the problems of the recent mission. Before he could open his mouth to call his first officer over, Spock appeared at his shoulder, standing at ease in a companionable silence, making no demands, but simply making himself available. Yet Kirk knew him, and knew what no other man—save perhaps McCoy—could have known. Deep below his cool, logical exterior, Spock was darkly troubled.

"Mr. Spock."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I would like you to call up a replacement to man the science station. For the next eighteen hours, I want you doing nothing but resting and working on your report. I want the report, including error analysis, in my hands by oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow."

"My shift does not end for four more hours, Captain."

"I understand, Mr. Spock, but you've just served a 72-hour shift with no rest. That's an order. Oh, and don't call Boma to take your station. I've confined him to quarters for now."

Spock raised that inimical eyebrow. "Aye, Captain."

Spock returned to his station, spoke quietly into to the console and then began adjusting settings and pushing buttons. A few moments later, lieutenant strode onto the deck—D'Amato, Kirk recalled. A geologist.

He saluted Spock, who stood and returned the salute. "All is quiet, Mr. D'Amato. Standard monitoring procedures only."

"Permission to use the computer to analyze some of the data from Taurus II? The Columbus brought back some samples from the surface."

"Permission granted. Contact me if there are any anomalies."

"Aye, Mr. Spock."

D'Amato took the console. Spock turned precisely and nodded to Jim. "Captain."

Kirk returned the nod and watched him go. They were going to have to deal with this sooner rather than later. He already knew what Spock's report would say, and he wasn't about to let his friend continue to blame himself forever.

Kirk checked in on the bridge at 0730 the next morning. As he expected, Spock was already there, peering at the dials and read-outs of his computer station. The captain's chair sat empty, but Kirk wasn't planning to sit in it just yet.

"Status, Ms. Uhura?"

"Clear communication channels between here and Makus III, sir," the communications officer said crisply. "The colony will be ready to receive us at our expected arrival time tomorrow."

"Excellent. Mr. Sulu?"

"The overnight navigator reports that she steered around an asteroid belt, resulting in a slight tilt off course, which was subsequently corrected. She took us briefly up to Warp 1.5 to correct for the delay, and we are now on course and on schedule and continuing at Warp speed."

"Fine, thank you. Mr. Spock?"

"D'Amato reports trace minerals in the surface rocks brought back from Taurus II, but will need further time to discern whether there may be significant amounts of those minerals on the planet."

"Thank you. Your Galileo report?"

Spock handed him a thin blue folder. "Printed here, and also saved in the mission reports file in the computer."

"Fine. I'll be in conference room A reviewing reports if anyone needs me."

Spock stepped forward, obviously intending to assume the captain's chair, but Kirk held up a hand.

"As you were, Mr. Spock. Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge."

Sulu's eyes flicked to Spock, then returned to Kirk. "Aye, Captain."

Spock turned stiffly, not meeting Jim's eyes, and resumed his position over the computer's microscope. Kirk spun on the heel of his boot and left the bridge.

A half hour later he sat at the large table with the senior officers' reports spread out around him. He sighed; they pretty much said what he had expected them to say—except that he hadn't realized the extent of Spock's heroism. Or the timing of the small breakdown he'd had, the episode McCoy had been referring to when he'd said, "He couldn't handle it."

Under the final section of his report, "Error Analysis and Recommendations," Lieutenant Commander Scott had written:

_Most of the errors besetting this expedition were unavoidable. Nobody could have predicted the sudden onset of the ion storm or the presence of massive hairy creatures on the planet. Mr. Spock, acting captain of the Galileo, may have made the decision that led to Mr. Gaetano's death, but that does not mean he is to blame for that death. No commander could have predicted the creatures' behavior; we just didn't know enough about them. Further, Mr. Spock showed knowledge, intuition and decisiveness in his command of the crew, and was almost solely responsible for our eventual survival. I have the following recommendations pursuant to this excursion: 1) That all shuttlecraft be outfitted with more emergency supplies, including medical, food, and replacement parts; 2) that Lt. Boma, the surviving junior officer, be officially reprimanded for disrespect bordering on insubordination; and 3) that Mr. Spock receive an official commendation for valor and leadership. _

McCoy's Error Analysis and Recommendations were even more telling.

_Though acting captain Spock made an error, it was no more than any captain could have made. Mr. Spock is to be commended for his commitment to the preservation of life in all its forms, adherence to the Prime Directive, and his unending patience with humans and our incomprehensible need to kill anything that threatens us. In addition to facing a difficult and dangerous situation with no support and virtually no information, Mr. Spock also had to face the prejudice of his crew, many of whom made it clear that they did not trust his non-human (ie, apparently unemotional) reactions, calling him a "computer," and a "machine." My recommendations pursuant to this excursion include the following: 1) Put more supplies on the shuttlecraft in case anyone else gets stranded, especially more phasers; 2) Official commendations should be awarded to Mr. Spock and Mr. Scott, for saving our rear ends in impossible circumstances; 3) Official reprimands for disrespect bordering on insubordination be issued to Mr. Boma, Ms. Mears, and Dr. McCoy, and that Mr. Boma and Ms. Mears be required to attend extra hours of Cultural Awareness Training. I may have my issues with Spock, but I'm not willing to die because some people don't understand how Vulcans work; 4) Mr. Spock should receive debriefing and post-crisis counseling with a Vulcan-trained therapist. I know there aren't any such things, but there should be. _

And, finally, Kirk picked up Spock's succinct and neatly typed report and perused it one more time.

_The errors which transpired on this mission are all attributable to the acting captain's failures and inadequacies. Anyone may make one mistake, but in this case, the flaw was in the commander's ability to comprehend the illogical reactions and motivations of his crew and their adversaries. Perhaps it takes a human to command a crew of humans effectively. My recommendations pursuant to this excursion are as follows: 1) Enterprise staff should re-evaluate the supplies routinely stocked on all shuttlecraft; 2) Mr. Scott should receive an official commendation for his efforts in repairing the shuttlecraft, leading to the rescue of the crew; 3) the acting captain should no longer be set in authority over planetary missions._

Kirk snorted. As if he was ever going to take that last recommendation. He hit the intercom button on the table.

"Kirk to bridge."

"Bridge, Captain."

"Please send Mr. Spock to see me in Conference Room A."

"Aye, Captain. Mr. Spock to Conference Room A."

"Kirk out."

Kirk mulled over his course of action while he waited for his First Officer to appear. The one thing he could count on, he mused, was that he didn't have to hide anything from Spock. He still had to exercise his authority in this particular case, but he didn't have to pretend to be above it all. The pretense wouldn't have worked anyway—Spock knew him as well as he knew Spock.

The door to the conference room opened and Spock strode in, stood at attention, and said, "Commander Spock reporting as ordered, Captain."

From the other side of the table, Kirk observed him for a moment. It was a proper entry, of course, but he wouldn't have held Spock accountable for it if he hadn't done it. Spock was initiating the formality of the conference in order to relive Jim of any awkwardness he'd feel in disciplining his friend.

"Take a seat, Mr. Spock."

Spock stood at ease, but otherwise didn't move. "With your permission, sir, I'd prefer to stand."

"Fine." Kirk nodded brusquely, considered, then stood himself. He clasped his hands behind his back and moved around the table. Spock continued to stand at ease, long legs slightly spread, dark eyes fixed on a spot near the ceiling.

"I've been reading the reports from the senior officers."

"I expected as much, Captain."

"Yes, well, between those reports and my conversations with everyone involved, I think I have a pretty good idea of what happened on Taurus II."

Spock didn't respond—didn't even cock his eyebrow as he normally might have.

Kirk began to pace, slowly and thoughtfully, back and forth in front of Spock. "Tell me, Mr. Spock, if you knew at the beginning of the Galileo mission everything you knew by its end, what would you have done differently?"

"I assume you are not asking me about the supplies on the shuttlecraft, sir."

"You assume correctly."

Spock was silent and perfectly still for a long moment. Kirk waited patiently, intrigued to see what Spock's very literal mind would come up with.

"If I had known there were hostile creatures in the area," Spock finally said, "I would not have sent Gaetano and Latimer to investigate upon landing."

"And yet investigation of the area was necessary, to determine exactly that."

"Yes, sir."

"What would you have done?"

"I would have gone alone and established a boundary with phasers set on heavy stun."

"Very well, Mr. Spock. What else?"

"I do not know, Captain. I do not find such speculation useful."

"Humor me. Would you have paused in your repairs to read services over Latimer?"

"Perhaps not," Spock conceded. "But I should have remembered that such rituals are important to humans. I would have made arrangements for having it done, and presented my choice in a more conciliatory manner."

"Oh?" This time it was Kirk's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You don't usually make allowances for humans' emotional weaknesses."

"No, sir. It is usually inefficient to do so. However, in this case, it might have been more efficient than trying to persuade humans in a volatile situation of the logic of my reasoning."

"I see." Spock didn't realize it, Kirk was sure, but that was a huge step for him. He had just admitted that there might be room in his worldview for human emotions.

"In your report, Mr. Spock, you indicated that you did not consider yourself fit for further command, even of shuttle missions."

"That is correct, Captain."

"Explain."

"Many of the conflicts and negative events of this mission, including Mr. Gaetano's death, could have been avoided if I had had a better understanding either of humans or their primitive counterparts. Such an understanding clearly cannot come through study, or I would have mastered it, yet a true understanding of human nature continues to elude me. That deficit in my understanding led directly to the mission's failure."

"Are you saying that no Vulcan is fit to command humans?"

This time Spock did raise an eyebrow. "Certainly not. Another Vulcan commander could no doubt have made his logic self-evident, even to humans."

"Would it surprise you to learn that your senior comrades do not agree with you?"

"About which part, Captain?"

"Not only do Lieutenant Commanders Scott and McCoy feel that the difficulties of the mission were unavoidable, they both filed recommendations that you should receive an official commendation."

Spock was silent for a moment. Kirk fought to hide a smile as he watched his First Officer's face become even more impassive. Kirk knew well that behind that stony façade, the Vulcan was wrestling with treacherous emotions. Spock was never more human than when he was at his most Vulcan—a fact that the Galileo's crew had failed to grasp.

"Another example of my inability to command humans, Captain," Spock eventually said. "That recommendation is completely illogical in light of the events of the mission."

"Events such as leading a small crew out to face unknown enemies?"Kirk asked, stepping toward Spock. "Forbidding thoughtless young officers from killing native creatures indiscriminately? Going after Gaetano alone, even though he had been taken by hostile creatures and was probably dead, and returning him while having eight-foot spears thrown at you by twelve-foot creatures? Fighting those creatures to protect the crew and sustaining injuries while they buried Gaetano? Ordering them to save themselves and leave you behind when you were trapped? Electrifying the shuttle to chase off the creatures? Or the decision to jettison and ignite the fuel—the only possible choice that could have saved your crew, a choice which could not have occurred to any other commander?"

Kirk was almost yelling now—somehow the more Spock buried his emotions, the more Jim's rose to the surface. "Which of these events was the act of an incompetent commander?"

Spock finally looked directly at him with a baffled expression. "Two men died because of my errors."

"Mr. Spock," Kirk said wearily, "you made no errors. You made the best decisions possible with the information you had, and in every regard you acted valiantly."

"And yet, Captain," Spock said, "my decisions were not easily accepted by the crew, and met with both opposition and resentment. This is hardly the outcome one would expect for those under a valiant commander."

"My decisions are also frequently met with opposition and resentment." Kirk spun away from Spock and began to pace again. "But when I make them, I don't have the prejudices against my race to contend with."

Spock looked thoughtful. "Are you saying that the resentment came from the crew's assumption that as a Vulcan, I didn't understand what mattered to the rest of the all-human crew?"

"Perhaps," Kirk conceded. "Or perhaps the junior officers were scared and lashed out at the closest convenient target. Probably a bit of both. But when you said no, or not now, to their requests, why did you do it? Was it because you didn't think it was important to bury fallen shipmates?"

"No, Captain," Spock said. "It was because I weighed all the options and came to the conclusion that saving the lives of the living was more important and more urgent than honoring those we could not save."

"And did you have time to explain yourself to the likes of Lieutenant Boma?"

"No," Spock answered. "But I judged it prudent to do so anyway."

"Spock," Kirk said, stopping in front of his friend and laying a hand on his shoulder. "I've trusted you not only with the command of shuttle missions, but with the command of this ship. As my first officer, you risk being put in command every time I beam down to the surface. Don't you trust my judgment in this?"

"It was never _your_ judgment that was in question, Captain."

"Then you'll just have to trust it now," Kirk said, pulling his hand away. "You will be a captain in your own right one day, and you'll learn to see who you can trust and who you can't." He and Spock were close to the same age, but Kirk suddenly felt like an aging monarch preparing his heir to take over the throne. "The mission isn't finished, though. You've left something undone."

"Captain?"

"Yes." Kirk returned to the far side of the table, glanced at Spock, and then took a calculated risk and sat. "Please sit down, Mr. Spock."

Spock sat and Kirk opened up two of the reports. "In addition to recommending commendations for you, both senior officers recommend disciplinary action be taken against various members of the crew. Mr. Scott recommends it for…" he scanned the last page of the report "…Mr. Boma, seeing as Gaetano is no longer available for discipline. Dr. McCoy recommends discipline for the whole crew except for Scotty and you." Kirk glanced up. "And that includes for himself."

"Indeed," Spock said levelly. "On what grounds?"

"In all cases, the grounds are disrespect bordering on insubordination."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Dr. McCoy did indeed disobey a direct order."

"Yes," Kirk said, grinning. "And saved your life, correct?"

"Yes, Captain. However, the fortunate ends do not necessarily justify the unfortunate means."

"I leave it to you to decide, Mr. Spock. However, I do recommend that Mr. Boma, at the very least, receive some disciplinary action."

Kirk stood and Spock stood with him. "Is that necessary, Captain?"

"It's absolutely necessary, Mr. Spock," Jim said emphatically. "No junior officer has the right to argue with the direct order of a commanding officer. Boma and Gaetano endangered the mission, the lives of the crew, and their own lives through their insubordination. I won't have that kind of disorder on my ship."

"Understood." Spock turned to follow Jim as he walked toward the conference room door. "Recommendation for appropriate disciplinary action, Captain?"

Jim turned as the door slid open. "Forty-five days confined to quarters except for duty shifts."

"Agreed."

Kirk turned back toward the door, but stopped again when Spock spoke. "And Jim?"

"Yes, Mr. Spock?"

The first officer stood once again at ease, tension evident in his shoulders and over-Jim's-head look. "Thank you for your trust. I shall endeavor to be worthy of it."

Kirk grinned. That was an emotional an admission as anyone could have asked for. "I never doubted it. What will you do about Dr. McCoy?"

Spock raised his eyebrow in what passed for an amused expression. "I think I will let him wonder for a while."


End file.
